Thursday, August 21, 2014

Laurie Kolp’s “Upon the Blue Couch: Poems”

Write
what you know, the experts say.

As
I sat reading the poems that comprise Upon
the Blue Couch by Laurie Kolp,
the thought kept recurring: She writes what she knows. These are the poems
about a life. These are the poems about a life being lived.

And
where is life lived? Where most of us live it. The car wash. The doctor’s
office. On vacation. Working. Seasonally. Who is it lived with? Spouses.
Children. Relatives. The people at church. And how is it lived? With joy and
zest and fear and depression and laughter and tears.

Kolp’s
poems address all of these subjects and themes, and more. But whatever she
turns her eye to, you can be sure it’s where life is lived. Like in the title
poem – upon the blue couch.

Upon the Blue Couch

Maybe
I didn’t write a thing today.

Maybe
I sat on this twenty-year-old

muted
blue couch and did nothing

but
think about the wear and tear

from
move after move we’ve been through,

with
washed over mars, the scars

of
cigarettes and vomit,

having
been passed out upon and puked upon,

a
shoulder when I needed one

to
cry my eyes out upon.

Maybe
I remembered all the lovers

who
have lied

sprawled
upon its pillows

with
hungry lips I’ve kissed,

hands
upon thighs, breasts upon chest,

all
to feel something better than

what
was missing in my heart.

Maybe
I dreamed about my husband

and
all the time we’ve rued upon

blue
obsequious fabric,

worrying
about the economy we’ve fallen upon—

with
curse words or whispers

sometime
sat opposite ends,

sometimes
hand in hand,

but
always with a love

never
to be crashed upon.

Maybe
I recalled my babies

sleeping
upon their daddy

sleeping
upon the cushions

as
they sought solace in colicky times

and
I was too tired to stay awake,

my
nipples having been sucked upon

and
sipped upon one too many times,

their
cracks a small sacrifice

for
a lifetime of nourishment.

Maybe
I didn’t write a thing today,

but
this twenty-year-old blue couch did.

The
blue couch is an artifact, and over the course of a life and its own life
becomes a repository of memory. But more is happening here then memory. And it
has to do with the one word that’s the single most repeated word in the entire poem.
(See if you can find it without reading on.)

It’s
the preposition, upon. It implies
relationship, a physical presence, almost a kind of platform. And that’s what
the blue couch becomes – a platform for memory, and memories, both good and
bad.

Kolp
has published poetry in a number of literary magazines, and is also an
accomplished photographer. She’s also a wife, mother of three children, manager
of two dogs, and the vice president of the Texas Gulf Coast Writers. She blogs under her own name.

Because
Kolp writes of the everyday, she writes of the familiar. These poems and the
life they paint are recognizable. We see ourselves in the poems; we share the emotions
they evoke; and the life and lives they represent become our lives.

And
we, too, find ourselves sitting upon the blue couch, sharing the laughter, the
anger and the tears. It is our blue couch, too.

Yes, thank you so much for your kind words, Glynn! This meant the world to me (especially since several hours after reading this, I walked out of a grocery store and bird poop plopped in my hair... I've now been pooped upon)!

Poetry at Work

Follow by Email

My Business Web Site

Poetry at Work

About Me

Professional writer exploring faith and culture, life and work; happily married to Janet, the love of my life; father of two grown sons. Award-winning speechwriter and communication consultant. I am an editor for TweetSpeak Poetry and the author of the novels "Dancing Priest," "A Light Shining," and "Dancing King," and the non-fiction book "Poetry at Work."